In The Middle
by clarasglassballoon
Summary: Set post-Allegiant, so spoilers for it. AU, obviously. The last thing Tris remembered was David shooting her, so why did she wake up on a strange house? Now she is being forced in to a game of kill or be killed-the Hunger Games. It's going to take all her Dauntless, Erudite, and Abnegation combined to get her out of this mess...and where's Tobias? T for general themes.
1. Chapter 1: Katniss

_-Chapter One: Katniss-_

When I get home from school, there is a girl on our couch.

This shouldn't be a big problem, not to me. With my mother as this area of District 12's healer, there are people in our house quite frequently. But they usually are treated in the kitchen, not the living room.

I set my bag down and walk over to the couch. Our couch is threadbare, and not very comfortable to sit on, much less to sleep on.

The girl has blond hair and a narrow face and large eyes, as well as a long, thin nose. She shifts in her sleep, muttering something about 'four' and 'serum'.

My mother then comes into the room. She takes my arm and tries to gently lead me out, but I pull away. She sighs and gestures for me to follow her to the kitchen.

"Who is that?" I demand, noisily pulling out a chair, hearing the satisfying scrape across the wood floors.

My mother shushes me. "I don't know who she is. Peacekeepers showed up this morning, telling me I had to care for her. Prim's out with Rory, isn't she?"

"She is," I say. "But what's the girl's name?" I can't help it. I'm curious.

Before my mother can answer me, I hear the sound of a throat clearing.

"Excuse me? Can you tell me where I am?" a soft voice asks.

It's the girl. She's only wearing a black tank top and blue jeans, along with ratty sneakers. Her blonde hair falls to her shoulders, and I can see her eyes are an almost dull shade of blue-grey.

There are tiny scars on her neck and arms, like needles pricked her. A scar on her right shoulder – a gun wound, maybe? I can't see any others, but I am sure there are more.

She has tattoos, three black birds in flight across her collarbones.

She has tattoos; they are strictly forbidden by the Capitol. _What kind of a world does she live in_, I wonder, _if she can have tattoos?_

My mother rises from her chair. "You're in District 12. You're safe now. I'm Daphne Everdeen, and this is my daughter Katniss."

"Tris." The girl – Tris – says.

"Tris. That's a pretty name. Is it short for anything?" my mother replies, an easy smile on her face. I can now see how people say she used to be beautiful, and for the first time, I can believe it.

It's odd. For the first time in a long time, my mother seems to be acting like a parent.

Tris nods slightly. "Beatrice."

"Also very pretty. My other daughter, Primrose, usually goes by Prim."

Tris repeats her question. "Where am I?"

"District 12." I interject.

"Where's that? Is it near Chicago?" she asks with a worried expression on her face.

I shake my head. "No. I don't know where Chicago is, but District 12 used to be called Appalachia."

"Okay…I don't know where that is." She mutters softly. "Milwaukee, then?"

My mother shrugs. "No clue."

"Why do you even want to know?" I ask.

"Chicago. It's where my family and friends are. I need to get there." Tris says, wringing her hands and pacing the small length of the kitchen.

I lean back into my chair. "Once you're in, there's no way out. Not unless you're Reaped. How old are you, anyway?"

She looks maybe nineteen, twenty. A little on the short side – eighteen, maybe?

Her answer shocks me. "Sixteen. I'll be seventeen soon."

Tris may be eligible for the Reaping. No matter how terrible someone is, no one deserves to die in the Arena.

"And what's the Reaping, anyway?"

This is odd. Why doesn't she know what the Reaping is? I'm sure wherever Chicago is, they have the Reaping.

My mother answers this. "Ages twelve to eighteen, you can be eligible for the Reaping of the Hunger Games."

Tris's eyebrows crease. "What's the Hunger Games?"

My mother and I share an alarmed look. Wherever this girl is from, it is either a really long way away, or she has hit her head and has memory loss.

I decide on the second one for right now.

I snort. "Do you honestly not know what the Hunger Games are?"

Tris frowns. "No. Should I?"

My mother touches her arm gently. "The Hunger Games is a competition. Children are chosen through the Reaping. If the escort from the Capitol draws your name out – "

"You're dead," I finish flatly.

"Katniss!" My mother scolds me.

"You are then taken to the Capitol. That's the center of all life in Panem," my mother continues.

"Panem. I've never heard of it," Tris muses.

"In a couple weeks, after the parade, interviews, and training, you are taken to an arena. In the Arena, you kill or are killed. Most don't make it past day one," my mother finishes.

Tris looks shocked. "So…this _Capitol_ takes innocent children and lets them be murdered?" Her eyes burn full of fire and rage; she looks like she might ignite.

"Not quite," I say.

Tris whirls around to face me. "What do you mean?" she questions.

I shrug. "In the richer Districts, like One, Two, and Four, they train the kids there. They consider it an _honor_. In the lower Districts, we call them Careers. They call themselves the _métiers_. It means 'trade'," I explain.

"That's…barbarian. Why don't you stop it?" she asks.

My mother shrugs helplessly. "We _can't_. If you try, you die." She chuckles lightly at her own grim rhyme.

Tris looks lost in thought, as if thinking of something before. And maybe she is; I don't know anything about her past. And not knowing anything about the Districts – that _could_ mean that she knows things about what's outside the fence.

For as long as I can remember, I have always yearned for the outside world. If Tris really is a product of the outside world – with her tattoos and scars – then if she leaves, I want to go with her.

But I couldn't leave Prim or Gale. They mean too much too me for me to just abandoned them.

"What _are_ the Districts? I mean, you keep mentioning them," Tris asks.

"There are twelve Districts," my mother says. "Like Katniss mentioned, some are richer than others. The one we're in is Twelve. They all have main exports; this one is coal."

"That would explain a lot…" Tris muttered, sitting down in a chair and leaning back, staring at the ceiling.

It's during that moment when Prim comes in, chattering about school and the Hawthornes and how she wishes she could have a little sister.

I don't want children. I couldn't bring them into this world, basically signing their death penalty disguised as a birth certificate.

"Who's she?" Tris and Prim say at the same time. It's a little uncanny.

"That's Tris," my mother answers. "Tris, this is Primrose, my younger daughter. She prefers to go by Prim, though."

Prim eyes her warily. "But what's she doing here?" she questions.

My mother sighs. "I don't know. Peacekeepers just showed up and told me to take care of her."

"Err, hello? I'm still in the room," Tris says with a small smile.

Prim blushes. "Sorry," she says.

I glance at my mother. "I'm going to Gale's." _I'm going hunting with Gale._ "I'll be home before dinner." _I'm going to go get dinner. I'll be at the Hob. Anything you want traded?_

My mother understands what I mean. "Prim's green dress is too small. Can you get a bigger size?"

I nod. "I'll try."

And with that, I set off.

-()()()-

I lay back on the dirt, not caring if my jacket and pants get dirty. Gale isn't here yet, but I saw him after school. He should be here soon.

"Hey, Catnip," I hear a familiar voice say.

"Gale," I say, smiling. He says that I only smile in the woods, but the truth is that I only smile when I'm with him.

Gale sets his bag of trapping materials down next to me and lies down, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed.

"It's nice out here," I say, mimicking a similar position.

"Mmm," he says. After a moment or two of sitting like this, he leans over and props himself up on his elbows. "Who was that girl at your house?" he asks.

I turn on my side and make a pillow out of my elbows. "Her name's Tris," I say. "My mother said that Peacekeepers just showed up and told her to take care of her."

"It's a big subject of gossip. Ma told me all about it," he says.

"Can we drop Tris and just go hunting?" I ask, irritated.

Gale raises an eyebrow. "Fine," he says. "Then let's go."

It's good to be back in the woods – warm almost-summer winds that signal April is ending and May is beginning.

The trees are almost done leafing out; the forest is green and full of color and animals. I could stay here forever.

After hunting for a while, we manage to shoot seven squirrels, trap a rabbit or two, and collect some herbs for my mother (fine, and tea) and a good catch – a wild dog.

Once out of the woods, we head to the Hob.

"Hello," I say to Greasy Sae. She buys much of our game; we should keep on good terms.

"What's going on with the girl?" she asks, dropping ten coins in my outstretched hand, taking two of the squirrels.

I'm getting irritated. Why is everyone so obsessed with her? "She's Tris," I say. "I don't think there's anything _that_ special about her."

Greasy Sae just nods, staring at me as if she was expecting me to say more. I didn't, though; all she does is take the wild dog and pays us for it.

-()()()-

I buy some rabbit stew, bread, a small mug of hot peppermint tea for Gale and me to share, and a cookie for us to split.

As I walk over to our normal corner, setting our food down on the table, I can see Gale out of the corner of my eyes talking to two of the Peacekeepers, Darius and Jason.

Darius is a redhead, only eighteen on nineteen. He flirts with many girls (and some men, too) but I think he has eyes for Calla, the daughter of the florist.

Jason came to District Twelve married and with a young daughter and a son on the way. His wife, Valentine, had a son – Cole – not long after they came. Their daughter Aria is quite cute, with blonde curls and blue eyes.

Usually, Peacekeepers aren't married. However, they made an exception for Jason, and no one seems to know.

Eventually Gale comes over. "Catnip," he says. "How old is Tris?" he asks me, taking a piece of bread.

"Seventeen. Why?"

He looks around, before leaning into me and whispering into my ear: "Catnip, according to Darius and Jason they tested Tris today. She could hit a target accurately with a knife and gun, as well as shoot someone.

"You know how I think the Hunger Games can be rigged?" he asks, and I nod.

"Well, Darius and Jason think that that once the Capitol hears of this, they're gonna want to have her in the Games."

"But they _can't_! She didn't even know what the Hunger Games were, and the Reaping is in – "

"Two days. No time for her to prepare. The head Peacekeeper already thinks she's dangerous; they'll but her in the Games to eliminate her as a threat. And with the Games so close, she won't have time to hone her skills."

"That's terrible!" I exclaim. I've heard Gale's conspiracy theories, but I've never really believed them.

I shift in my seat as Gale nods in agreement. "It is. But it's the way things are."

"Then why can't we change it?" I whisper.

Neither of us speaks. We both want to change it all, but at the same time we know we can't.

This is the consequence of living in Panem. No freedom of choice.

And right now, I want to choose. To choose to leave, to go wherever Tris came from.

Freedom, the power to choose. Freedom, which I do not have.

And right now? Right now, I am craving it.

And it was only after I left that I realized I never got Prim her new dress.

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, thanks for reading this. It's my first time writing in present tense and the longest thing I've ever written. Reviews would be nice :)_

_I already have some pairings: The obvious Fourtris, but also Clato, Foxel, and Odesta. Those I know for sure. Maybe some Gadge or Everlark - not to sure about those yet._

_And if you liked this, I have another multi chapter story, Spoiled Rotten, up as well as some oneshots. Wow, I'm shamelessly advertising my own stories. :/_

_Till next time! Remember to review :)_

_-Adela_


	2. Chapter 2: Tris

_-Chapter Two: Tris-_

Prim decides to go back to the Hawthorne's house. With a cheery "Bye, Tris! It was nice meeting you!" she skips out the door.

"The Reaping is soon," Mrs. Everdeen, Daphne as she wants me to call her, says quietly just after Katniss leaves.

"Where do they get all the children from? Aren't they from the other Districts?" I ask.

Daphne sighs. "Yes. One, Two, and Four are the richest. The other Districts are more commonly known as 'the outer districts'.

"District One exports luxury items, like jewels and wines. They name their children odd names, like…oh, I don't know…Shimmer. There was a Glitter last year."

I burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. The most normal name there was was a few years back…the girl's name was Ruby. There was an Emerald back in the first year I was eligible."

"Can you tell me about the other Districts?" I ask.

Daphne smiles. "District Two is masonry. A lot of Peacekeepers come from there. Their names relate to that, or after ancient names, like 'Brutus' or 'Marcus'."

Marcus. I freeze up at that, and I think Daphne sees it.

"Three is electronics," she continues. "They have names like Wiress or Beetee or Cable. In District Four, it's fishing and things like that. Their names are usually sea related, like Marina and Reef. But there are also names like Annie Cresta or Finnick Odair."

"Who are they?" I ask.

Daphne looks at me. "This is more serious than I thought," she murmurs to herself.

"District Five is power and also medicine. They haven't had any recent Victors, so I can't think of any names, sorry," Daphne apologizes, and I wave it off.

"District Six is transportation…trains, cars, hovercrafts. They have names like Mercedes."

"Wait! _Hovercrafts_?" I exclaim.

"Yes," says Daphne. She looks at me closely. "Do you not have hovercrafts where you came from?"

"No," I say, shaking my head.

"District Seven is lumber. Cedar, Maple…those types of names are all common. District Eight is textiles and fabric. The Victor last year, Emory Monton, was from District Eight. District Nine is grain – like bread and things. Their names are usually something along the lines of Rye, Wheet, or Graham. District Ten is livestock – Angus, Annabelle…you get the idea.

"District Eleven is agriculture. Leif and Clementine seem to be very popular. Then there is Twelve, which is coal. Nature names are popular in the Seam. Old- fashioned names like Elizabeth, Catherine, or George are common in the rich part of town.

"Then there's District Thirteen." Daphne goes quiet here.

"I thought you said there were only twelve districts?"

"There was a thirteenth District. They mined graphite. During the Dark Days, they were bombed."

"Dark Days?"

"Many, many years ago, there was the country of Panem. A nation of glory, rising from ashes. Thirteen Districts around a shining Capitol. But then the Districts found out that the Capitol was using their exports and a rebellion formed."

"The Dark Days?"

"Yes," Daphne confirms. "District Thirteen was bombed and used as an example. The Capitol oppressed the rebels. In punishment, they made every District send two children – one boy and one girl – between the ages of twelve and sixteen to the Arena."

"Last one alive wins," I say. "So, basically, the easiest way to know what District someone is from is their name?"

Daphne nods and sighs. "I guess. I'm so nervous for the Reaping. It's in two days, and Katniss has twenty slips in, and even though Prim only has one, it's still a chance."

Daphne seems nice. I wonder what happened to Katniss and Prim's father.

It is not too much later after she finishes telling me about the Districts that there is a knock on the door.

Daphne goes to the front door and opens it; seven men in the strange white suits come in and push her to the sides. A young redhead offers his hand to her and she takes it gratefully.

"Miss Prior?" the one in the front says. I assume he is the head of these men.

I step forward. "That's me."

The man beckons. "I am Gray Mason, second Head of Peacekeepers of District Twelve."

"What's a 'Peacekeeper'?" I ask.

The men give each other shocked looks.

"Damn," one says. "She really is from out of here."

The redhead steps forward. "Darius," he offers. "Peacekeepers keep the peace in Panem. We're basically law enforcement."

I nod. I guess they're like the Dauntless in that regard; watching out for the others, maybe with purpose, maybe without.

Gray sighs. "Miss Prior, we need you to come with us."

"No! I won't allow it!" Daphne says. "You're going to hurt her, aren't you?"

"Mrs. Everdeen, we won't hurt her." Gray says. "We just need too…assess her skills."

Daphne looks at me. _Go without a fight_, she mouths.

Well, I was going to anyways.

-()()()-

_One Week Earlier_

This is my chance. I must run.

I can hear them in the distance; Nita's voice and the David's laugh.

Six months they have kept me here; I will stay no longer.

I will run. I will go back to Tobias; to Caleb, to Christina, to all my friends.

A guard unlocks the door, and he tries to grab me. I duck past him and hit him over the head; out like a light.

I grab his gun and security pass and run.

I stop at a cell: number Five-Oh-Eight. I was number Five-Forty-Two.

"Uriah!" I say urgently. "Uriah!"

He wakes quickly. As I unlock his cell door by scanning the security pass, he grabs his things. The two of us run toward the back door, and I pass him the gun.

Guards stare at us; Uriah shoots them in the leg, shoulder, arm; we don't want to kill them.

Soon, we burst through the back door. Uriah quickly locates a SUV, and using the security pass, I scan it open.

Our plan is to take the SUV to the fringe and hitchhike to Chicago from there. It might not be the fastest way to get there, but if the Bureau finds us, they will kidnap us and we will be experimented on again.

We have been driving now for a couple hours, and we can't find the fringe. We are in some dense wood.

I want to get to Chicago.

All of the sudden, our SUV bumps up and down, jarring the two of us.

Uriah and I scream, holding onto each other's hands as the car flips.

Then everything goes black.

-()()()-

_Present Day_

I am taken into a room in a large building – the "Justice Building", as they call. Women bustle through the halls, cleaning it.

Gray leads me to a small room with targets. There are knifes, daggers, swords, a bow and many arrows, and a gun.

"Well, go on," Gray says, nudging me. "Shoot." The other Peacekeepers file in, presumably to watch me.

I catch Darius's eye, and he gives me a thumbs up.

I try to pick up the sword and fail miserably. The bow and arrow I am terribly uncoordinated with.

I try the dagger and manage to hit the outside of the target once.

Knives, I can use better. I hit the middle edges of the target with them; Gray raises an eyebrow and smirks.

I pick up the gun and test it; it's not too heavy. Yes, this should work.

I turn towards the target and shoot.

Again.

Again.

I hit dead center every time.

"You are dismissed, Miss Prior," Gray says with a cold nod, before pointing to a tall blonde man. "Hamilton will take you home."

Hamilton is a tall man with black hair and dark green eyes. Kind eyes. "Beatrice, right?" he says.

"Just Tris is okay," I say. "Where did you find me? The last thing I remember is passing out."

Hamilton looks at me. "My squad and I found you by a wrecked car. How did you get it, anyway?" he asks.

"Long story," I say quickly. "Did you find another boy? Tall, tanned, dark eyes and bronze skin? A tattoo of a snake behind his ear?" I ask.

Hamilton shakes his head. "Sorry, no. Was he a friend of yours?"

"We were trying to go home."

"His name's Uriah. Uriah Pedrad."

"That's not a name you hear every day," he chuckles. "I'll ask everyone to keep an eye out for them. And by the way, my name's Anders."

We are now entering the old, broken down section of town. Anders calls it the Seam, where the miners and their families work.

From what I've seen, the people of the Seam have olive skin, black hair, and grey eyes. The people in the rich part of District Twelve, the "townies", or town people, have blonde hair and blue eyes. But there are always exceptions, like Daphne who was originally from the town, but married a man from the Seam.

They must have been like my mother and father, marrying a man not at all like you, sacrificing so much for him.

When we get to the house, it is practically dark and I can see Katniss on the front porch. Waving goodbye to Anders, I walk over to her.

"It's late," Katniss observes.

"It is," I agree.

"Did they test you? In weapons and stuff like that?" she asks.

"They did. They gave me a bunch of weapons and told me to try and hit the target."

Katniss faces me, and in a very low voice, says "Darius and Jason, another Peacekeeper, told Gale who told me that the Head Peacekeeper thinks you're a threat."

"You're telling me this because…" I say with a raised eyebrow.

"Tris, Gale thinks the Reaping is rigged. And if it is, you're going to be Reaped."

"_What?"_

"If you're a threat, then they can get you out of the way by putting you in the Hunger Games. The Careers, they're fierce. They could kill you just like _that_." Katniss snaps her fingers to demonstrate.

"Careers? I thought they were the _métiers_."

"That's what they call themselves. Districts One, Two, and Four. Five used to be a Career District, but not anymore, and no, I don't know why."

"But why do they call themselves the _métiers_?"

"_Métier _means _trade._ They trade the emotions they have – like mercy, trust, hope, love – for a life to try to win the Hunger Games. To them, it's an _honor_." Katniss spits out the last word like poison in her mouth.

"That's terrible," I whisper. Slumping down onto the wall of the front porch, I look up at the starry sky. Where is Uriah? This is a moment when I want my mother or father more than ever.

Today, I woke up on a lumpy couch in a strange, faraway place. Then I was forced to show my skills with weapons. Now, I've found out that I probably am going to die.

I want to go home. Home with Tobias. After all I've been through, I like to think I deserve my happily ever after.

Katniss tugs my arm. "Come on, we have to go in. Curfew," she explains.

Maybe not all things are different. In Abnegation, I had a curfew of 9 P.M., though it wasn't like I had anywhere to go.

The Dauntless didn't have a curfew. Though here I suspect that here in District Twelve it is more of a law than something set by parents.

"You can wear this," Katniss says, handing me a simple white top and a pair of plaid pajama pants. Although old, I find them soft when wearing them.

Daphne pokes her head into the room, Prim trailing in behind her, blonde hair braided and wearing a long white nightgown.

"I'm going to stay up for a little longer," she informs us. "Tris, do you mind sharing with either Katniss or Prim?"

I shake my head. "Oh, I don't want to inconvenience you – "

"I'll share with Katniss on the large bed, you can take the smaller bed and Mamma could take the couch," Prim says.

"That will work," Daphne says, kissing Prim on the top of her head. She doesn't even try to give Katniss a hug, I notice.

"Tris, you're going to have to go to school tomorrow. Jason just popped round, and he said it was okay with the principal if you stick with Katniss. I've laid out clothes for you, Tris; I think you'll fit them. Good night, girls."

"'Night, Mamma!" Prim says. She is really quite cute; Katniss seems to love her.

The outfit consists of a white button up blouse with elbow length sleeves, a knee-length black skirt with turquoise and gold flowers, a black cardigan, and lace-up boots that look sort of combat style, but not enough that they don't look feminine.

Katniss turns the small oil lamp off, and I make my way to the smaller bed.

I lie down under the covers and stare at the ceiling. Placing my hands behind my head, I try to make patterns out of the grains on the wood beams on the ceilings.

Today I woke up in a strange place without Uriah. I'll never forgive myself if he dies. Tomorrow, I'll be at a strange school with strange people, even if only for a day. The day after that, I will probably go to my death.

Within a month, I will be dead.

I've kept onto hope. I will keep holding on. But even the bravest have to admit it's hard to have hope when you know you're about to die from the hands of a bloodthirsty nation.

I'll take that Happily Ever After with Tobias right about now, thank you very much.

* * *

_Author's Note: Wow! Five reviews, four favorites, and four follows! Thank you all so much!_

_If you have an account, I know I PM-ed you, but to **Guest,** I might just use that, thanks :) And to **amy Flores:** I am working on chapter five right now, don't worry. I am having WAY too much fun with this to stop. Hannah, yes, Darius is France II. :D_

_And if you've read** Spoiled Rotten,** my other ongoing fic, its six month birthday is Monday! Yay! _

_And I have a Polyvore for what Tris is/will be wearing: just go to adelagreen. polyvore. com and click 'collections'. Y__ou need to take out the spaces, though._

___Next chapter: Uriah, Finnick and Annie!_

_Remember, read and review! It makes me happy!_


	3. Chapter 3: Uriah

_-Chapter Three: Uriah-_

A cool hand, skimming across my forehead. Slow, murmuring voices floating above me.

Where am I? Where's Tris? I need to find her. We need to go to Chicago.

"Lie down." A woman's voice, soft and kind. I blink rapidly to see a woman standing over me. She has long, flowing brown hair and green, green eyes.

In the corner, sitting on a chair, there is a handsome man. Tanned with bronze hair and green eyes. "You're up," the man says.

"I am," I agree. "Where am I?"

The man arches an eyebrow. "Victor's Village. My house. District Four. Any questions?"

"Many. Like, where the hell am I and who the hell are you?" I demand.

"I just told you," the man said, irritated. "Victor's Village, District Four. And you should know who I am."

I snort. "Wow, stuck up much?"

The woman lays a hand on the man's shoulder. "Finnick, maybe he's confused." She says softly.

Finnick. I don't know a Finnick.

The woman turns toward me. "I'm Annalise Cresta, but everyone calls me Annie. That man is Finnick Odair, we're dating," she beams.

Finnick clears his throat. "Err…Annie, love, he may not want to know that."

"Oh. Sorry, person." Annie says.

"My name's Uriah. Uriah Pedrad." I say quickly.

"Nice to meet you, Uriah Pedrad," Annie says, holding out her hand, which I take and shake it.

"Where am I?" I ask.

Finnick looks annoyed. "The first time, not the second time, or the third but the first time. You're in District Four, in the Victor's Village. At my house. We found you near the border when visiting Annie's sister."

"Maggie – that's my sister – knocked you out. Sorry about that," Annie said, looking embarrassed. "But you're safe in District Four now."

"Oh. District Four." I pause. "Is that near Chicago?"

"No," Finnick frowns. "Where's Chicago?"

"It's near Milwaukee," I say. I frown. "I _think_ so…"

"Sorry, I don't know where either of those are," I say.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Annie asks me.

-()()()-

_One Week Ago _

"Tris…oh, God, Tris, wake up!" I've pulled her out of the SUV and she's out cold. We need help, and fast.

Better yet, we need to get to Chicago. We need to get to Zeke and Mom and Tobias. They can help us.

I lay her on the ground in a position where she is only visible if you look hard enough. I need to find some civilization that can help us.

Or, at least tell me where I am.

I set off walking and walking.

I walk for days and days without seeing anyone. Of course, that may be due to the fact that I only walk during the night, but hey, safety first, right?

Wow. Am I losing my Dauntlessness, thinking about safety? Probably.

It's probably four or five days later when I reach a stream. Water! Precious, sweet water! I must have a sip…

I run towards it and take a sip.

Hmm. Not as good as Dauntless cake, but don't blame me. I've been living off stolen water and berries for four days, and I still haven't found any civilization that can help Tris.

I freeze up. Tris. _Oh, shit, I forgot about her!_

I turn around to see a girl with reddish-brown curls and green eyes staring at me with an odd expression on her face.

It's too late that I notice the large stone hurling towards me, and everything goes black.

-()()()-

_Present Time_

"Well," I say to Annie. "Some chick, your sister I think, threw a stone at me."

Annie nods sagely. "Curly reddish hair and green eyes."

"Yeah, that was her."

"That's definitely Maggie, then." Annie says.

"I do hate to interrupt this happy little conversation," Finnick interrupts, not looking sorry at all. "But I must say you are quite heavy to carry."

Annie swivels around to face Finnick. "Finnick! We've talked about not being rude to people because of their weight."

"I was just stating a _point_," Finnick argues. "I never said he was fat."

"Well, you implied it," Annie frowns.

While the two were bickering, I attempt to get up. I manage to (almost) get out of the bed and halfway across the room before Annie sees me and forces me down.

"I have a friend. She's injured. About four days of a walk away from the border. I need to get to her!"

"Well, you friend is dead." Finnick says.

"Finnick! The poor boy obviously is trying to find his friend!" Annie swats his arm. "So, what's her name?" she asks me.

"Tris. Short for Beatrice. And before you ask, we're not dating. She has a boyfriend who would kill me."

Finnick leans back in his chair. It's a nice chair; large and covered in a soft-looking cranberry-colored material.

Finnick looks at me. "How did you even walk four days away from the border without being caught by Peacekeepers?"

"Peacekeepers?" I'm confused.

"How do you not know what Peacekeepers are? Every District has htem…"

But seeing my confused face, he continues. "Basically, law enforcement. A little like…oh, what were they called?...policemen in the old days." He answers.

Annie gives a wan smile. "Not so much 'policeman' than 'if you don't follow our rules, we'll kill you'.

"That's terrible," I say.

Finnick runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but that's life. Kid, where are you from? What drugs are you on?"

"Don't call me kid, I'm seventeen," I snap. "And don't joke about the drugs, I'm not on any."

When I was seven, I swore never to take drugs. My father died from an overdose not too long ago.

Although I love my mother, my father and I were closer just like Zeke was closer to my mother, Hana.

It really hurt me. If I ever have kids, Rue Number One, no exceptions, will be no drugs. No hanging out with anyone who does drugs.

It tore my family apart. If I ever have a family, then they won't be torn apart by anything, least to say drugs.

"Whoa, sorry," Finnick holds his hands up. "Bad personal experience?" He asks with sympathy in his voice.

"Dad. Died from overdose." Finnick nods mutely.

Annie breaks the awkward silence by clapping her hands. "Ooh! I know, how about a watch on the beach?"

The look in her eyes is so hopeful, neither Finnick nor I can say no.

-()()()-

I have never seen a beach, much less an ocean, so it all comes as a surprise to me.

Rushing waves, capped in white. Soft, gritty sand under my feet that seems to dissolve as I move. A brilliant summer sun shines down on the three of us.

Finnick, wearing only swim trunks, holds Annie's hand.

Annie wears a one piece green swimsuit and a loose cover up shirt, as well as green flip flops. She braids her down her back, and Annie carries a green floppy sun hat.

I wear a pair of Finnick's old swim trunks. He offered to let me wear a 'Speedo', but Annie told him sternly that if I wore it, he would be in big trouble with her.

The summer air is warm, and I can feel like cool wind swirl around my face, ruffling my hair. The feeling is nice – better than the rush of air you get zip lining, even with the adrenaline rush.

Thinking about zip lining reminds me of happier times, times with Lynn, Marlene, Shauna, Zeke, James, Fiona…

Lynn and Marlene are dead. Shauna and Zeke probably think me so. James and Fiona transferred to Candor; I don't know what happened to them.

A wave of homesickness overwhelms me.

I turn to Finnick. "Can we go back?"

He shrugs. "It's your funeral."

Annie just rolls her eyes at Finnick. "Don't be rude to poor Uriah, he seems very nice," she scolds him.

Finnick heaves a sigh. "Hey, kid, are you registered for the Reaping?"

"The Reaping?" I ask, frowning. What's the Reaping?

"You don't know what the Reaping is?" Finnick asks with a raised eyebrow.

Damn. Must have said that out loud.

"This is odd," Annie says softly. "You managed to make your way across the border without being caught by border police. You've never heard of the Reaping or Peacekeepers, so I guess you've never heard of the Hunger Games?"

I shake my head. No, I haven't.

Finnick and Annie exchange glances. Years of watching Shauna and Zeke doing the same thing taught me how to read glances and glares; this one says something along the lines of either _where the hell is this guy from?_ or maybe _wow, he must have amnesia._

"Come on, kid. I'll explain it all too you if you tell me about yourself."

So we go back to Finnick's house, and he starts to explain while Annie bakes.

"It helps her. Keeps her mind off things like the Arena."

"Arena?"

"Where the Hunger Games are held. A different one every year."

Finnick tells me everything, starting with Panem and its former glory. The people of the Districts, finding out about the Capitol's treachery. Their uprising and the rebels storming the Capitol.

As I listen, I can't help but wonder: _what if this war was also the Purity War?_ It might seem impossible, but I can't help but thinking that it may be possible.

The Dark Days. The Capitol's final victory. The creation of the Hunger Games. The two Quarter Quells; the first, where everyone had to vote people in, and the second, where the Districts were required to send in double their tributes.

This year is year 74. Next year will be the next Quarter Quell.

He tells me about his Games, winning at only 14 with a trident. He was the youngest Victor ever. Finnick tells me about Annie, seeing her District partner's – also her best friend's – head be chopped off. It made her unstable, he told me; not insane, like the Capitolites think, but unstable.

A scent wafts into the room – burnt cookies. The two of us race into the kitchen and Finnick quickly pulls the burning cookies out of the oven.

There's a note on the fridge.

_Dear Finn (and Uriah, but mainly Finn),_ the first part reads.

I snort. "Well, she likes me, doesn't she?"

Finnick glares. "She's just blunt."

_ I've gone to the Registry. Uriah is going to be staying here for a while, so he needs to be registered for the Reaping. No tesserae, though. He's going to stay with me, is that okay? Before you go all huffy on me, Finn, if he's not registered and he's found not at the Reaping, we'll be shipped off the Capitol for extra sessions and District Four will have no Victors for a very, very long time._

Finnick folds the note. "She's registering you for the Reaping," he says.

"I'm not an idiot," I say.

"Sure could fool me," he mutters.

I scowl. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't," he says, wrinkling his nose and dumping the burnt cookies in the trash.

"You're just persistently annoying."

"How am I persistently annoying? You've only known me for a day!"

Finnick waves his hands in a _whatever, I don't care_ motion. "You talk in your sleep."

Oh, sweet God, I hope it wasn't anything embarrassing. "Some bull about this chick Marlene – wait, Marlene is a girl, right? – and telling someone named Zeke to fuck off."

I glare at him. "Marlene is a girl. Zeke is my brother."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"And why would you think Marlene would be a boy's name?"

He shrugs. "I've met a man named Césaresque before, can you really blame me?"

Well, I guess if you put it that way…

The door slams, making us both jump. "I'm back!" Annie's cheerful voice rings out. "I'm making dinner!" she beams.

"Oh, and the Reaping's tomorrow," she says.

Finnick and I sit down, both watching Annie as she makes spaghetti with clam sauce, quietly singing a song under her breath about crackers being bad luck and obsessions.

This feels almost normal, like Mom is cooking, and instead of Finnick Zeke is sitting across from me, telling me about what happened that day.

Tomorrow is the Reaping; and for some reason, I can feel a chill creep up my back. It's an ominous chill; one that promises foreboding things to come.

I can't help but think my life will never be the same after the Reaping.

* * *

_Author's Note: Today sucked. My dad got in the wrong car line and I was picked up 25 minutes late...then we got rear ended, which took half an hour because my dad insisted on calling the police. And I have a science test next time...and we just got back from break._

_School. Bleh. Projects. Bleh!_

_Ugh, have to go work on projects..._

_And guess what? I got 100 reviews on my other story! That's awesome, thank you all so much! :D_

_Bye bye...and don't forget to review! ;)_


	4. Chapter 4: Katniss

_-Chapter Four: Katniss-_

When I wake up, Tris is already dressed in the clothes my mother laid out for her last night. She sits on the bed, folding the pajamas neatly.

I notice the bed is also made, and her hair is pulled into a ponytail.

Her tattoos aren't visible.

She has diamond studs in her ears; I have been trying to convince my mother to let me pierce my ears, but she refuses. She says I can have them pierced when I am out of the Reaping ball.

I pick up a pair of earrings Madge bought me a few years back for me to use when I do pierce my ears.

"Here," I say quietly, walking over to the bed. "You can wear these." The earrings are pale pink pearls from District Four.

Tris looks surprised, but accepts them. "Thank you," she says.

"Do I need to do anything to help?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No. My mother can give you some breakfast…I guess you could help her with lunches," I add.

"Okay," she says, exiting the room.

I shake Prim awake, who mumbles sleepily. "C'mon, Little Duck," I whisper. "Just today and you can sleep in tomorrow. Plus, you know school isn't enforced during the Games."

School is not optional for most of the year; the only time when you could even _think_ about not going is during the Games, and even then most people show up three days a week.

If you're at school, though, you work and you don't have to watch the Games. If you stay home, technically, you are supposed to watch them. However, this is District Twelve, which is by far the most lenient (well, according to Darius and Jason).

Prim and I dress, and Tris hands each of us a lunch pail. "They're all the same," she informs us.

As we set off, I peek into the lunch pail. It has a small water bottle, slice of bread, three apple slices. I raise an eyebrow at Tris.

"You gave us a lot," I say. She shrugs.

"Well, I don't want to starve. How long is the school day, anyway?"

"From eight in the morning to three in the afternoon."

"That's as long as my old school," she murmurs, staring off to the side at the buildings of the Town. "How is it divided up?"

"From eight to nine thirty, we have English, Literature, and Grammar. From nine thirty to eleven, we have Panem History. Eleven to twelve is lunch hour. Twelve to one thirty is Science, and one thirty to three we have Math."

Tris nods thoughtfully. "At my old school, we had different teachers for each period. And we would switch classes."

"That doesn't really make sense to do it that way," I argue. "What's the point in paying extra teachers?"

Tris shrugs. "I guess I never really thought about it that way."

"No many do," I mutter.

Prim tugs on my sleeve. "Katniss, we're here."

"Go and find your friends, Little Duck." I smile as Prim runs off.

"Why do you call her that?" Tris asks me.

"What?"

"Little Duck. Why do you call her that?"

"Sometimes the back of her shirt is untucked, like a duck tail. That's why."

"Oh. That explains it."

Madge comes up to the two of us. "Hello, Katniss," she smiles. "Beatrice, right?"

"Tris," Tris automatically corrects her. "And how do you know my name?"

Madge shrugs. "Everyone does. You're the talk of the town."

"Well, it's nice to meet you." Tris holds out her hand to shake.

"You too," Madge says, shaking.

"So, where do we go?" Tris turns toward us.

"English. Come on, don't want to be late."

English is normal. Madge and I sit in our shared desk, and Tris gets paired with Delly Cartwright, whose normal desk partner, Celina, is sick.

I guess Tris could be sitting by someone worse. Even though Delly is overly nice (and very annoying), she does mean well.

English is boring. We discuss the book we are reading, _Brutus Maximus: the True Story of the Victor,_ which is about Brutus.

After our (boring) discussion on how Brutus won his Hunger Games (the same as most other Victors from District Two – with a sword) we move onto Panem History.

Because we are studying about Brutus, our class has to do a project on a Victor; Madge and I did Emory Monton, last Game's Victor from District Eight.

She won at fifteen by letting everyone else kill each other, until the Tributes forgot she was there. Even the Capitol seemed to forget; the camera never seemed to come to her.

When it was down to Emory, the girl from District One, and the boy from District Ten, she poisoned the boy and strangled to girl with a noose she had made from woven grass.

She had the least kills of any Victor in a long time: two.

As Madge and I recount the story, Tris looks torn between thinking admirably of Emory or looking disgusted. Emory is sixteen, my age; only a year younger than Tris. She is a killer, and at such a young age.

I've noticed that people tend to call the Victors 'killers', not 'murderers'. I guess because when you put children in a 'kill or be killed' situation, they tend to take the 'kill' option.

But our presentation is over, and the teacher applauds. She says that 'it is worthy of an inner District'.

I am not sure if this is a compliment or an insult; I decide to take it as an insult.

Lunch could not come soon enough; even though many people don't like lunch, it gives me time just to sit and rest.

"Did you enjoy the morning?" Madge asks Tris, who is eating an apple slice.

Tris shrugs. "I guess," she says. "It's definitely different from back home."

"What's it like back where you're from?" Madge asks, curious.

Tris lights up. "Well, –"

"Not here!" I exclaim.

"Later, then," Tris says.

"It's not safe anywhere," Madge grumbles, and I nod. Madge is absolutely right.

The lunch bell rings. Thank goodness – I hate lunch. It's torture watching the Town kids eat so much food (today, Ella, the grocer's daughter had a _chicken_ sandwich, a peach, pretzels, real lemonade, and a frosted cookie from Mellark's Bakery!), and sometimes the Town kids will deliberately sit by Seam kids and munch on their food, remarking on how good it is.

That makes me want to punch someone.

Science is boring, as usual. No one raises their hand to answer questions, so we are all stuck listening to the teacher's monotonous drone.

Math seems to be easy to Tris; when I am asked to pick up the worksheets for the teacher, I have noticed most people are not even halfway done, while Tris has all the problems complete.

School is dismissed, and as Prim, Tris and I walk home, Prim pipes up, "Did you enjoy it?"

Tris smiles. "It was different from my old school by a long shot."

"How was it different?"

"Well, the dress code was definitely different. And there was no coal dust on anything."

"That must have been odd," Prim remarks.

"How?" Tris answers.

"Well, even though no one likes the coal dust, we learn to live with it. It's a part of life, just like-"

"The Town kids stealing lunch from Seam kids?"

"Yeah, I guess," Prim answers.

And we are home.

-()()()-

"Do you want to go hunting?" I ask her.

Tris jumps. She must not have heard me approaching.

She shrugs. "Okay, do I need to bring anything?"

"No," I say. "But here, put this on," I say, tossing her a pair ripped jeans, a tank top, black sweatshirt, and a pair of reddish-pinkish canvas shoes.

She dresses quickly, and the two of us make our way to the woods. I wiggle my way through, grab my bow, and toss Tris, who had followed, a throwing knife.

She looks at it with an odd expression that I can't exactly read. However, when I motion to her to follow, she comes.

"Why did you invite me?" she asks, voice quiet.

"Gale told me about you impressing those Peacekeepers yesterday," I answer.

She winces. "Everyone likes me because I'm _special_," she grumbles.

Before I can ask her what she means, Gale appears from behind the trees. "Hello," he says. "I'm Gale Hawthorne. You're Tris Prior, right?"

"Yes, I am."

"Tris, you promised to tell me about where you came from," I interject.

She looks a little startled, and we walk to a small clearing and sit. "Well, okay…so, to start, there were five factions."

"Factions?" asks Gale.

"Five…groups, I guess. Abnegation, where I was from, Erudite, Candor, Amity, and Dauntless, where I transferred. That's where I got the tattoos," she says, taking off the sweatshirt and touching the birds on her collarbone.

"When the world fell, a long, long time ago, people divided up into factions. Each faction had different values. Abnegation, who did government jobs, believed in being selfless; we would help anyone and always wear grey. The other factions called us Stiffs. I hated it, and I didn't belong there.

"Erudite valued knowledge; they wore blue and glasses. They were teachers, mainly. They hated the Abnegation, especially a woman named Jeanine Matthews.

"Amity was peace loving. They had a type of bread which was like a drug, and they always wore red and yellow. They provided lots of food. Candor believed in honesty to the bluntness and rudeness; their colors were black and white.

"Dauntless were the reckless, tattoo-wearing 'hooligans' as my father used to call them, guarded the fence that shut out the city. I transferred there from Abnegation, like I already said.

"When you turned sixteen, you joined a faction of your choice. Everyone took an aptitude test to see which faction you would be best in. You could stay in the one you were born in, or you could transfer. There was initiation, which I'm not going to get into, but in Dauntless only ten people made it.

"But there was a rare possibility. You could fit into more than one faction. If you did that, you were Divergent. I was Divergent; I fit into Abnegation, Erudite, and Dauntless. A lot of my friends were Divergent, actually; Uriah, who I'm trying to find, and my boyfriend were a few.

"My boyfriend was actually my initiation instructor, Tobias, or as everyone called him, Four. But at my initiation ceremony, Erudite released a serum which controlled all the Dauntless. I had too…kill my friend. He was going to kill me," Tris's voice breaks, and she pulls her knees up to her chest.

"But later…so…long, very, very complicated story short, my brother tried to deliver me to the Erudite to be killed. I was rescued, and later, Tobias and I viewed a video by a woman named Amanda Ritter, or Edith Prior, as she later changed her name to, and as it turns out, she was my ancestor.

"Then Tobias and I got to this place called the 'Bureau', where we found out they wanted to wipe everyone's memory and give us all a fresh start, a fresh faction. When trying to stop this, I was exposed to the death serum.

"I somehow could resist the serum. I was shot with a tranquilizer dart, though it felt like a bullet. When I woke up, I saw my friend Uriah. He had gotten too close to an explosion; and even though it didn't kill him, it did something to his brain.

"We were experimented on, two Divergent; we escaped, and our SUV, what we were driving, overturned. Then, I woke up here." Tris finishes.

Gale blinks. "Wow, that's quite a story."

"I guess," Tris says. "I glossed over a lot. I bet a lot of people in Chicago, back home, think Uriah and I are dead."

She holds her head in her hands. "T-tobias too. All I want to do is to go home and see him again." Silent tears run down her cheeks as she brushes a strand of hair back.

Gale looks at her with sympathy in his eyes. "Let's hunt."

And so we did, until it was too dark too hunt anymore.

All in all, I think it was a pretty good day.

Well, except for the fact that the Reaping was tomorrow, but then again, that was inevitable.

I go to bed with worry in my heart. Worry for Prim, Tris, Gale, and myself.

_Tomorrow it all ends. Tomorrow._

* * *

_Author's Note: Yesterday was the best day ever :D_

_I saw Divergent! So now I am writing lots of Fourtris and every song sounds like it describes Fourtris. #fangirlproblems _

_And I also felt like The Fault in Our Stars trailer should have been in the previews. Who agrees?_

_And at school, we have paw prints, which are rewards for being good - my friend put 'Tobias Eaton' on a couple, and it was drawn! I was laughing so hard..._

_And thank you all for reviewing, you made my day :)_

_The good news: I have a laptop now. So I can type! The bad news: It's so old, it won't connect online without a modem, which we don't have. And I have to wait until June, my birthday, to get a new one...damn..._

_I have Tris's outfits on Polyvore, just take the spaces out: www. polyvore cgi/collection?id=3438498 _

_Review, please! :D_


	5. Chapter 5: Uriah

_Author's Note: More info in the bottom, but this is a replaced chapter. I had to go back and edit some things :/_

* * *

_-Chapter Five: Uriah-_

I cannot go to sleep.

There is a strange, almost nauseous feeling in my stomach; even though I know I have almost no chance of being chosen, it is still there.

I get up and pull on the robe and slippers Finnick left beside my borrowed bed. It is warm in District Four, much warmer than Chicago. I don't need the long-sleeved shirt and pants my mother would always make Zeke and I wear, even though the two of us complained immensely.

The room suddenly seems too stuffy, thinking of my mother and brother, and I need air. I walk downstairs, and I see a sweet sight: Finnick is lying on the carpet, and Annie is curled into his embrace. She shifts slightly, and I grab a blanket off the couch.

I place the knit blanket on the two of them; Annie shifts just a little more.

I pad upstairs to the balcony, which overlooks the ocean. The houses in the Victor's Village has a seaside overview; it calms me too watch it.

"It's nice, isn't it?" a quiet voice asks me from right behind me. I jump slightly, but it's only Annie.

"Only me?" she asks, her eyebrows raised. _Shit. I said that out loud._

I shrug. "I guess I thought you were a Peacekeeper."

She ignores that statement. "This is my favorite time to go outside. To just…stargaze."

"It's very calming," I agree.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm afraid I'll be Reaped," I say.

She gives me a sad smile. "Uriah, you're one of many. Do you really think you'll be picked? And you only have only one slip."

For some reason, that doesn't reassure me.

Annie exhales. "Look, I'm going back inside."

"And Uriah?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for the blanket."

I wonder how she knows. She must have been awake, I realize.

It is nice. But I should sleep; I need it.

-()()()-

Reaping day dawns bright and clear, the sea with little disturbance.

"Good morning, kid," Finnick says when I come downstairs.

I raise an eyebrow. "Why are you calling me kid?"

He shrugs. "Don't know. You can figure it out, how about that?" he winks.

Annie rolls her eyes. "Just stop, Finnick. And," she says, consulting her watch. "We've got to leave in fifteen minutes."

Twenty minutes later, my finger had been pricked and my blood recorded. Now, I was standing (awkwardly) in a group of seventeen year old boys who all seemed to know each other.

"Did you hear about Dylan?" one boy says, to my left.

"Finnick Odair's nephew?" replies the boy to my right. They were leaning behind me – it was quite awkward.

"Yeah, he's sick and now he can't volunteer," Boy to the Left says.

"Oh, that's gotta suck," responds Boy to the Right.

"It has to," Boy to the Left says.

I don't even bother to ask what the two of them are talking about. I know I won't understand.

A woman with green skin and bright blue hair wobbles up on the stage in high heels, and I wonder how she walks in them.

The boys around me burst into snickers as the woman takes the microphone off from the stand, almost toppling over in the high heels.

"Hello!" She says in a bright, cheery voice that reminds me of Marlene with too much coffee or Shauna when she is trying to scare you.

"I'm Cinamet Rosedance, and I am the escort for District Four! I'm so excited to be in this lovely, fantastic, amazing District!" Cinamet giggles, batting her (green) eyelashes at Finnick, who replies with a tight smile. On his left, Annie is frowning.

"Let's have the wonderful, bestest, most wonderfulest Mayor come and give us his love, terrific, magnificent speech!" Cinamet cries, throwing her hands into the air, revealing talon-like sea colored fingernails.

This woman was already scarier than Jeanine Matthews, and I had only _seen_ this Cinamet chick.

The mayor's speech was a little interesting – about the beginning and history of Panem. Then, he showed a video explaining how the Hunger Games came to form, and what they were.

It was like looking at a grotesque accident; you want to look away, but at the same time you feel the need to look.

By the time the video is over, Cinamet is practically jumping up and down and squealing in excitement.

"Reaping time!" she squeals. "From our boys…the lovely lad is…" Most of District Four is on the edge.

"Uriah Pedrad!"

I feel the blood drain out of my face. _Oh my fucking God I was chosen what am I gonna do what am I gonna do?_

Stiffly, I walk to the stage, ignoring the people's cheers when Cinamet squeals. "Ooh, a _handsome_ one!" she gushes. "And now, for the lovely ladies!" Cinamet chirps.

"Pearl Hamilton!" she says. A girl with long, red-gold hair storms up to the stage, sobbing wildly amid the loud clapping and even wolf whistling of the boys.

"It isn't _fair!_" she yells. "Why me? Why me? I'm too young, too fucking gorgeous to die!" Pearl then proceeds to throw herself onto the stage, screaming and kicking. In the end, Peacekeepers have to drag her to the big white building – the Justice Building, I think, where we'll say our last good byes.

I am ushered into a room, and not too soon after, Finnick comes in.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "You're gonna win, I just know it," he says.

"Where's Annie?" I ask him.

"She's mentoring this year," he answers. "You'll see her on the train."

"Two minutes!" a Peacekeeper calls to Finnick.

"Kid, do you have a token?" Finnick asks me.

"What's a token?"

"When you go into the Arena, you get to take one thing with you."

I shake my head. "No, I don't have anything."

Finnick presses something into my hand. "Well, you do now." He pats the top of my head, and I swat his hand away.

Finnick laughs and lets himself be led away by the Peacekeeper, waving to me.

But when I see the token, I can't believe my eyes.

A black flame.

The symbol of the Dauntless.

-()()()-

After our time for good-byes was up, Pearl and I are ushered to a train station. "Wave to them, darlings!" Cinamet says.

Pearl bursts into tears again. Wow, this girl's a drama queen.

I wave slightly to the crowds, who cheer. Cheer for _me_. I give them the Uriah Pedrad Grin, trademarked, thank you very much.

Pearl and I are ushered on to the train, and into a compartment with food.

Food! Finally!

At the table, Cinamet seems to be flirting with a pretty boy, who looks about twenty-nine or thirty: wavy black hair, sparkling blue eyes. Annie sits next to him, eating a piece of chocolate cake.

Wait just a minute. I recognize that cake.

_ Dauntless cake. _

After all, if I'm going to die here, at least I'll have Dauntless cake.

"Come in," Pretty boy says. "I'm Caspian Heartsee."

"That's an odd name," I remark.

"Do you have a _problem_ with my name?" Caspian asks sweetly.

"No," I say.

"Good," Caspian says. "Now, as I was s_ayin_g, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, I'm Caspian Heartsee, and I'm your mentor. This is Annie Cresta, who's you're other mentor. Be nice to us or you die."

Pearl bursts into tears at this.

"Is there something wrong with her?" Caspian asks me.

I shrug. "No clue."

He huffs. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"What's your name?" Caspian asks abruptly.

"Uriah Pedrad. That's – "

"Pearl Hamilton!" Cinamet squeals.

"Drama queen?" He asks me, looking at Pearl who was passed out on the floor from either crying or sheer exhaustion, I couldn't tell.

"Yeah. Now, the more important question: who's gonna give me the cake?"

Annie rolls her eyes, but passes me the cake.

"Go change into something comfortable, and we'll watch the Reapings," Annie tells me.

My room is rather nice; a big bed with a large closet. _Oh, Marlene would love this,_ I think to myself as I open the closet.

I pick a pair of blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt to wear, and walk back to the room, where Cinamet stands.

"Oh, good, about time!" Cinamet says. She grabs my hand and drags me into a compartment where Caspian, Annie, and Pearl are sitting.

"The Reaping. We need to make sure there is no competition so you can survive!" Caspian yells, banging his fist down on the table.

Pearl's eyes turn glassy. "So…so you're saying I'm going to _die?_" Pearl asked, but then she starts to bawl. "I don't want to die!"

Annie sighs and moves over to console her. "You won't die."

"You mean it?" Pearl asked her, wiping her eyes and looking hopeful.

"Err…yeah!" Annie replies in a chipper manner.

"You're lying, aren't you," Pearl suddenly whispers. "I _am_ going to die!"

She starts sobbing again.

Pfft. Pearl's such a pansycake.

Caspian cringes at Pearl and hits the 'PLAY' button on the remote. The seal of Panem appears, as well as a song which I guess is Panem's national anthem.

The Reapings are the same in most Districts: one (or both) tributes break down crying. A few seem like a threat: the small, lithe dark-haired girl with a wicked smile from District Two, and her District partner: a monstrous blonde boy who lunges forth to volunteer.

From District Five, a tall redhead with her hair pulled back in to a precise bun, even rivaling those of Abnegation. The boy from District Five: a boy about twelve, with the same shock of red hair as the girl. A crippled boy from District Ten. A small dark-skinned girl from District Eleven, only twelve or thirteen and her partner, an ox of a man.

And in District Twelve. "Beatrice Prior!" the escort, a woman with a pink wig. Tris walks up to the stage.

Tris?

There's no mistaking her. It's Tris.

"Oh my God..." I mutter. She's alive and okay.

Tris lives! Tris is not dead!

Annie turns to look at me. "Do you know her?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"That's Tris," I say, and Annie nods.

She looks calm, but I know her.

I can see the panic in her eyes. It's the same panic that I would see when Nita or David would take one of out for experimentation on the two Divergents: a girl who was compatible with three factions and could resist the death serum. A convenient boy there to test on.

The Bureau was hiding their best weapons: inventions to make the dead come back to life. Not exactly, but they recovered my brain waves and saved Tris from her bullet wound.

Then, they experimented on us.

The boy from District Twelve is short, stocky; but you never know who could be your opponent. Like Tris; she's small but deadly.

"We're almost to the Capitol," says Annie, looking at our surroundings. We are passing through a mountain tunnel right now.

I can see old graffiti: _Down with the Capitol_, one reads. _DAMNED SNOW_ another says. I guess it means the President of Panem, Coriolanus Snow; a man of blood and roses, as Finnick tells me.

"Oh, _wow_," Pearl breaths, crying ceased. I know why she has finally stopped; we are in the Capitol.

It is a magnificent place. Large buildings of every color of the rainbow tower over the skyline, and I can see civilians everywhere.

They look like they've escaped from the freak sector; brightly colored skin and hair, all looking like Cinamet.

"Remember, the stylists are in control," Caspian says, and we nod as we listen to the cheers of the people as they hear and recognize a tribute train pulling in.

I wave to everyone and blow kisses. The public loves me! I've always wanted to do this, and now I can without Zeke yelling at me for looking retarded.

Thinking about Zeke reminds me of home. I push that thought out of my mind.

We are ushered to a building where Pearl and I are separated for our styling sessions. We will be 'beautified', put in to costumes, and be paraded to the Capitol.

Is there any real surprise that Pearl bursts in to loud, seemingly endless sobs?

* * *

_Author's Note: Blehhhhh school :P_

_Choral festival Monday...a social studies drawing and vocab quiz Tuesday...and I am trying out for yearbook! Wish me luck, everyone!_

_And this chapter is an **edit**. I noticed that I randomly switched tenses, so I had to fix that! And **child of Hermes-god of stealth**, I hope you like Uriah's reaction better! Cool pen name by the way, I'm a daughter of Athena xD  
_

**_Dark Meow Meow Kitten of Doom_**_, HA. #TrisLives_

_Bye everyone! It's 11:29..._

_Remember to review! :D_

_-Adela_

_-Adela_


	6. Chapter 6: Tris

_-Chapter Six: Tris-_

I wake up the next morning to Katniss gone. Prim comes into the room.

"Katniss is out hunting," she informs me. "But she'll be back soon."

I nod, and go to take a bath. Daphne has drawn one for me, and she has also laid out some Reaping clothes for me: a salmon-striped three quarter sleeve Henley top, a black skirt with a brown belt, light brown lace-up boots, and a large white cardigan.

When I am dressed, I see that Katniss is back. She is dressed in a soft blue dress with matching shoes. Prim is wearing a pink skirt with a ruffled blouse.

I eat the piece of bread Prim hands me as we start for the town square. _One o'clock,_ I note, looking at the large clock that towers over us.

I fall behind, walking by Daphne, who, to her credit, doesn't make small talk. I don't feel like talking right now.

"You've lost someone, haven't you?" I hear a quiet voice say from behind me. It's Daphne.

Well, scratch what I said on the small talk.

"How did you know?" I ask her.

"You have that look in your eye. The look of someone who's loved and lost."

I take a deep breath. "You know how sometimes you meet someone, and they seem so closed off, it's like no one could ever know them?"

"I do." She says.

"Then, when you get to know them, they're more open, but you still feel like you don't know them."

"I know exactly what you're talking about," Daphne replies with a soft, wistful smile, looking into the distance.

"They open up, and you know them more and more. And then you start to see that they're so full of life and energy, that you just can't help but feeling so loved and happy around them.

"And there's a place in your heart that you didn't even know was there, and it is full of love and hope. When you're away from them, the hole in your heart if full of pain – and it hurts so much, like a gnawing ache you can never get rid of.

"And then they say something like 'I love you'. You say it back, but you don't really know it – or believe it – before it's too late. And he's gone, and he's moved on away from you.

"That's how I feel. Empty," I finish.

Daphne gives me a small smile. "You've described it better than I could have, Tris."

"What was his name?" The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"What do you mean?" Daphne asks.

"Your husband. He's dead." I feel like a Candor for stating it so bluntly.

"He is. His name was Aston."

"That's a nice name."

"What was your boyfriend's name?"

"Oh, did Katniss tell you?"

"Everything."

"His name is Tobias." I say _is_, because I am not ready to refer to Tobias in the past tense. He is still my boyfriend, even if to him I have been missing for six months and I know her thinks me dead.

I don't want him to think me dead. I want to go to Chicago and run to his apartment, yelling _I'm here! I'm here!_

But maybe my greatest fear is that he's moved on. That Tobias has loves another girl.

That he doesn't love me anymore.

-()()()-

When we arrive, Katniss, Prim, and I have our blood drawn. It is inputted into a database, and we are sent to our separate sections. Prim to the twelve year old girls, Katniss to sixteen year old girls, and me to seventeen year old girls.

Every minute feels like an hour as we watch the clock tick.

"I'm going to be picked," a girl whispers beside me. She has blonde curls and green eyes, which match her dress.

"How do you know?" I whisper back.

The girl shrugs. "I just have a feeling."

The clock chime two o'clock, and a woman with pink hair and high, high heels totters up to the stage. Snickers and whispers erupt from around the stage.

"I'm Effie Trinket, your escort! And today's the Reaping!" Effie beams.

"Dumbass," the blonde girl beside me mutters. "Not _all_ of us are idiots."

I snigger. "I'm Tris," I offer.

"Calla," she replies, grinning and shaking my hand.

Effie and the mayor give a speech about how the Hunger Games got started, the Dark Days, etc. No one is listening; they are all either staring into space, like I see Madge doing, or muttering profanities, like Calla.

Haymitch Abernathy, District Twelve's only living Victor, is drunk.

"God, not again. This happened last year, of course we're the laughingstock of Panem!" Calla scowls.

Haymitch attempts to hug Effie, but it only results in looking like he is trying to molest her. Her pink hair is lopsided, and she looks flustered.

"And now, for our lovely lady!" she chirps. I can see Calla stiffen out of the corner of my eye.

When I hear the first syllable, I'm glad it's not Calla.

Then I realize it's me.

Damn. She called Beatrice Prior.

I walk up to the stage calmly, but inside I'm shaking.

Effie calls the male tribute; his name is Peeta Mellark. Peeta is average height, and sixteen, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He is not slim and muscled, but instead stocky.

We shake hands, and I notice his palms are sweaty. When I look him in the eye, I see one thing: fear.

He is scared, just like me. We both think we won't survive (which, actually, we probably won't, from what Katniss told me).

I do not really process what is going on, but I am led off the stage to the Justice Building, where I will say my last good-byes.

It's okay, though. I'm not expecting anyone to show.

-()()()-

However, people _do_ show. I'm surprised.

Calla is the first to come in. "Good luck," she says softly. "Even though I don't really know you, you were nice to me."

I thank her. She was forgetting that she was kind to me also.

Prim and Katniss are the next to come in. Prim's lower lip is quivering, and Katniss gives me a sad smile.

"Good luck!" Prim cries, giving me a large hug.

"Thank you, Prim," I say. It means a lot to me that a veritable stranger would miss me; well, at least there's someone.

"No one, no matter how bad they are, they don't deserve to die in the Arena," Katniss says softly.

I give them a weak smile. "I'll be fine! I'm Tris, after all."

Katniss takes a deep breath and forces a grin, _more for Prim's sake_, I think to myself.

"Come on, Prim, our time's up anyway." She says.

The two of them exit the room, escorted by Peacekeepers, Prim waving slightly.

My next visitor is Daphne. "Tris," she says urgently, "What was your mother's name?"

"Natalie. Why?" I'm confused.

"Natalie. What was her maiden name?"

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. I _don't_ know my mother's maiden name.

Daphne takes a deep breath. "I knew a girl who looked a lot like you. Her name was Madeliene Hamilton, and she disappeared at fourteen after her sister Maysilee was Reaped. Natalia was her middle name; she often went by Natalie. She could be your mother."

"She can't," I say in a furious whisper.

"Hurry up!" a Peacekeeper shouts.

"Think about it, Tris," Daphne says, pressing something into my hand. She turns around to leave and says, "It's a token. You can take one thing from home with you to the Arena."

Then, she's gone.

I take a look at the token Daphne's given me, and when I see it, I can't stop myself from blinking.

It's a pendant on a chain; to be more precise, a _Dauntless flame_ pendant on a chain.

_What?_

As I muse on my thoughts, I don't here one more person come in. "Tris," Madge's oddly urgent voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Madge?" I'm surprised to see her here; but then again, I don't think I should be _that_ surprised with random Town girls coming to say good-bye after Calla, though.

"Look at this," she says, shoving a flier in my face. I take the flier and examine it. It reads:

**THERE'S A NEW OPPURTUNITY FOR YOU IN**

**DISTRICT FOURTEEN!**

***formerly known as Chicago**

There is more, but I don't bother reading past it.

"What is this?" I ask quietly.

"Exactly what it looks like," Madge says grimly. She takes a deep breath. "I'm going."

My head snaps up. "_What?_"

"I said I'm going to Chicago. You said you had your boyfriend their, what's his name?" she asks me.

"Err…Tobias. Tobias Eaton. His mother is Evelyn Johnson, and his father's Marcus Eaton." I stutter out.

Madge nods. "Okay. And Tris?" she asks, head turned as she's poised to leave.

"Yes?"

"Good luck. I know you'll win."

And with that, Madge Undersee is gone.

-()()()-

Peeta and I are herded onto a large, sleek train. Effie and Haymitch lead us to a compartment with lots of food (and liquor for Haymitch, I notice).

"I'm going to take a nap," I tell Peeta. He nods, and I walk to my compartment.

The bed is large and soft, and I fall asleep quickly.

But then I open my eyes, and I see Nita.

She is wearing a tight black leather shirt with a matching skirt and black leather flats. Her hair is in a high ponytail, and she holds a platter with a severed head, splattered blood on her.

The head is Tobias's.

She approaches me, singing softly. _"Tick, tock goes the clock/The time is getting faster/Till the time is up/For the daughter of the Master!"_

David appears from the side and joins in the creepy chorus. Thankfully, he's not dressed in the same outfit as Nita, but the head on his platter is Caleb's.

More and more people come. Uriah. Christina. Shauna. Zeke. All my friends. I even see Katniss and Madge.

"Tris! Tris, _wake up_!" I hear someone shouting in the distance. _Peeta._

Then, I slowly blink. I am in the compartment again, and Peeta is standing over me, looking worried.

_It was just a dream,_ I realize.

It was just a dream.

"Are you okay?" Peeta asks me quietly.

"I'm fine," I say, standing up and throwing back the bedspread. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs. "Well, the fact that you were yelling in your sleep kind of tipped me off."

"Sorry," I say.

"It's fine." He turns and moves open the door. "Do you want to talk about it? I always told my cat. It made me feel better."

"No," I say. "But thank you for the offer."

"We're going to watch the Reapings. To get a feel for the competition, you know?" he says with a weak smile.

I guess he hasn't embraced his imminent death yet.

"Yeah," I say. "Come on."

-()()()-

The other Reapings are the same: someone is called, they break down crying.

Until they get to District Four.

"Uriah Pedrad!" called the escort, a woman who would make Effie look tame.

_Uriah_. He was here and alive, thank God. I exhale and slump back on the chair. All I can think is _he's alive Uriah's not dead oh thank you god he's alive_.

It seems that my old Abnegation values have stuck with me even now.

"Tris? You okay?" Peeta asks me, touching my arm.

"Couldn't be better," I reply. And it's true.

"Oh, _that's_ good! It would be absolutely terrible if you got sick right before the Hunger Games," Effie beams.

It would. It really would.

I watch the rest of the Reapings in almost a daze. A few faces stick out to me: the slim yet lethal-looking girl from District Two, Clove, the tall red head from District Five with an Abnegation-precise bun, and the little girl from District Eleven – she is twelve, but the girl, Rue, I think her name is, looks only nine or ten.

I am disgusted by this.

"We're here!" Peeta says. We are in a tunnel, but when we get out of it, we are in a different world. Skyscrapers tower, and people dressed odder than Effie jump around, waving to us. They recognize a tribute train.

We're here.

In the Capitol.

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm back bitches xD_

_JK. You guys are fantastic!_

_Thank Dark Meow Meow Kitten of Doom for this chapter. She kept bugging me all day, though it was either write or study...guess which one I chose?_

_And I want to say odestalovebaby, houseofme, cherrycolahoneykisses, xxfluffedxx, PringleRepublic, Dark Meow Meow Kitten of Doom, and all my fantastic reviewers! Amazing people, all of you!_

_I made yearbook. So now I'm happy. But I have two tests tomorrow and one Tuesday. I'm sad :(_

_You know what would make me happy? Reviews! So review my little minions reveiw! _

_Minions wear pink on Wednesdays xD_

_Review please!_


	7. Chapter 7: Tobias

_-Chapter Seven: Tobias-_

"You need a life," Zeke says, tossing his apple towards me.

"You need to stop interfering in my love life. You aren't Cupid, you know," I retort.

For the six months that Tris has been gone – I refuse to say dead – he has been pressuring me to date. Oh, sure, I've gone on dates, but none of them are special.

None of them are like Tris. No other girl has her spark, her fire, and all the things that make her _Tris_.

I guess I'm being unfair, judging before even getting to know them. Cara informed me that we probably wouldn't work out, as most teenage relationships don't.

Her way of consoling me was saying that we probably wouldn't have lasted? That makes me feel _so_ much better, Cara.

Shauna rolls her eyes at me. "Zeke's right – oh my God, I can't believe I actually said that! But you should see yourself," she continues.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, digging my fingernails into the apple, feeling the skin break and my fingers stick in the fruit.

"Look, I can do a pretty decent impression of you: 'Oh no! My girlfriend's dead! I won't shut up about her! Oh, woe is me! Everything reminds me of Tris! Boo hoo! This flower reminds me of Tris!'" Shauna mocks.

I stand up so quickly, I think I knock something over. "Shut up," I whisper. I am so angry, I can't even speak right.

Shauna bites her lip. "I'm sorry, that was harsh – "

I ignore her and Zeke's calls to come back and leave the restaurant. I walk to my favorite bench in the park and just sit, resting my head in my hands.

"Are you okay?" a voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

I turn around to see a girl stands behind me, with ash-blonde curls and blue eyes.

"I'm Madge Undersee," she offers her hand.

"Nice meeting you, Madge Undersee."

"What's your name?"

"Four. Four Johnson." I am no longer Tobias Eaton. I refuse to let myself be associated with that monster.

I've seen Marcus around the city, in different places – the grocery store, the park, the library.

I don't talk to him. I don't want anything to do with him.

My mother never mentions him either, and that's how the two of us like it: no Marcus.

Madge cocks her head and moves to sit by me on the bench. "That's an odd name."

"No odder than your name."

"Point taken. And for the record, Madge is a family name. It's short for Margaret."

"How did they get Madge from Margaret?" I ask.

She shrugs. "No clue. But I had an aunt, Madeleine, who liked to go by Natalie."

"Why did she like to go by Natalie?"

"I had another aunt named Maysilee, and my mother's name was Mackenzie."

"My parents are only children. You must have been lucky to have aunts and cousins."

Madge looks uncomfortable. "They're both dead."

"Oh." I can feel my cheeks turning red.

"It's fine. You didn't know." She said.

"So, why are you here? In the park? You look sad."

"I don't think I've seen you around."

"Don't change the subject," Madge snaps."

"Tobias! Come here!" my mother calls. Why is she here?

Evelyn strides across the length of the park, looking tense and nervous.

"Please. You need to come with me, it's urgent." I stand up.

Waving to Madge, I follow Evelyn.

But when I look back at Madge, she is staring at me with narrow, suspicious eyes.

-()()()-

"What do you need me for?" I snap.

Evelyn is still tense. "It's important."

She leads me through the streets to her office. Since the end of the war, she has been working as a domestic violence lawyer.

A man sits in her desk. "Sagittarius Snow," Evelyn addresses him, her voice tight.

"Evelyn Eaton," he replies with a raised eyebrow.

"Johnson. Not Eaton."

"Ms. Johnson, then."

"How is she doing?" Evelyn asks.

Sagittarius gives her a cold, calculating glance. "_Antionetta_ is doing fine."

She exhales. "Good. And Sarah?"

Sagittarius rolls his eyes. "What type of a person do you think I am?"

"Not a very good one," she snaps.

"I could say the same for you. I did warn you not to marry Marcus Eaton, and look where it got you – "

"At least _I _didn't marry Cornelia Crane."

"Don't bring Cornelia up! She is already in delicate enough help, and with Seneca being Head Gamemaker, of _course_ she'd be nervous – that job never lasts for more than a year or two."

"Wait, how do you two know each other?" I demand.

"Tobias," my mother starts tiredly. "This is my cousin, Sagittarius Snow."

-()()()-

"Has your mother told you of the outside world?" Sagittarius asks me, sipping his coffee.

"No. Why would she know?"

"She's my cousin. We're from Panem. Heard of it?"

"Never."

"Your mother, my cousin, was always good at blending in." Sagittarius leans back in to his chair.

I snort. "Wasn't so good at blending in when she tried to take over the city with her army of factionless."

"She did? I'll have to talk to her about that. World domination with a private army is _so_ ancient Rome."

"I still don't believe you're her cousin," I say.

"Who else would she leave your half-sister and your twin in my care?"

"Wait, _what?_"

"You have a half-sister. Antoinetta. And a twin, Sarah. Of course they have no clue."

"And no one thought it was a good idea to tell me this?"

"Obviously not, seeing as you know nothing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand.

"Oh, please." Sagittarius rolled his eyes. "We can't tell Antionetta because as far as she thinks, Antionetta is my daughter. And Sarah won the Hunger Games, and she was raised in an orphanage in District Nine."

"Explain what these 'Districts' are and what the 'Hunger Games' are."

"I will," Evelyn says. In the end, she and Sagittarius take turns telling me about it all: the Purity War, how the world split, Panem, the Dark Days, the creation of the Hunger Games.

"So…basically…the Bureau was a load of bull because Panem was controlling it?" I ask.

"That about sums it up." He stands up to leave.

"Oh, leaving so soon?" Evelyn frowns.

"Not really," he shrugs. "I'm basically governor here now, so deal."

"This is an invasion, isn't it?" I ask my mother.

"It really is," she agrees.

-()()()-

When I get back to the park, Madge is still there.

"Oh, hello," she says. "You're back."

"Yes, I am," I say, a little irritated with her for some reason; I don't know why.

I take a deep breath. It's now, or it's never. "Are you from Panem?"

Madge's eyes widen. "How do you know that? No one's supposed to know that."

I shrug. "Connections."

She bites her lip. "But still…"

"What District?" I prod.

Madge gives me a small smile. "Twelve."

"What's it like there?"

"Dusty. Lots and lots of coal. Rather boring, if you ask me."

I smile. Madge might be a good friend.

* * *

_Author's Note: I apologize for how short this chapter is! But there was only so much I could put before I got ahead of myself..._

_But I have started on chapter eight. From Tris's POV. And more Uriah too xD_

_I am listening to the song Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey right now. That song goes for so many couples...Odesta, Fourtris, 10Rose..._

_Excuse me while I go sob._

_Next week I have Easter break! Yay! Friday and Monday off :D_

_AND I HAVE ALMOST LESS THAN A MONTH LEFT OF SCHOOL!_

_Random Question: Anyone else watch Pretty Little Liars? I started watching it today..._

**_DauntlessMerici:_**_ It's gonna be Fourtris. :) And **AWESOME:** oh wow were you reading my mind? xD_

_Bye bye, going to pin Marina and the Diamonds stuff on Pintrest..._

_Please review!_


	8. Chapter 8: Tris

_-Chapter Eight: Tris-_

When we get off the train, swells of people surround me. Effie grabs me and pulls me towards a building.

"Now, remember," says Haymitch, taking a swig from his bottle. "No arguing with the stylist."

"What if they choose something really stupid, like making us naked with coal dust? They've done that before," Peeta points out.

I'm surprised. "Why would they do that?"

"The stylists have to dress you in something that represents your District's industry. Because District 12 is coal, we're usually stuck with something like that." Peeta explains.

"Well, come on," Effie snaps.

I am herded in to a room with two women and a man working on me. They wax every inch of my body, fix my makeup, and file my nails until they are perfect crescents. It should be embarrassing, but it's more like giant, overgrown parrots are hovering around me in my personal space.

Red eye shadow. Red blush. Alternating black and red nail polish. Red lipstick.

In the six, seven months I've been away, my hair has grown out. The stylists style it so that it is braided into two thin braids around the middle of my head, and it all comes together in a braid down the back.

The rest is curled in to waves. When, I look at myself in the mirror, I see I look so…_adult_.

"You look gorgeous, darling!" chirps one of them, Octavia. "Call in Cinna!"

They take me to a room where I sit on a cold, hard bed-like structure. My mother used these when examining people at the volunteer stations.

I expect to see a wacko person to come in, but instead a fairly normal-looking young man comes in.

He has dark skin and hair, and the only sign he's from the Capitol is gold eyeliner and a small gold ring in his left ear.

"Beatrice isn't it?" he asks with a smile.

"Just Tris," I correct.

"Well, then, Just Tris," he says with a gleam in his eye. "How do you feel about being the canary of the coal mine?"

-()()()-

Less than an hour later, I am dressed in my parade outfit. It is nothing _too_ extravagant, which I am grateful for.

The outfit consists of a yellow dress with white floral print and black trim, black leather knee-high boots, a black zip-up cropped leather jacket, and yellow leggings. I am also wearing black stud earrings and a gold bangle with a yellow outside and a chain.

"You look nice," Peeta materializes behind me.

"Ack! You scared me. But you look nice, too," I say.

He has been forced into a yellow button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black pants with hiking boots. Coal dust is smudged around his face and arms.

"They never think to represent the Town," he says, gesturing to his clothes. "Only the Seam."

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" Effie sings from off to the side of our carriage. "Aren't you two looking lovely?"

"No, Effie. They aren't," comes the bored voice of a girl. She was about sixteen or seventeen, with thick, light brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She was wearing a light yellow halter top and long, calf-length matching yellow skirt. Her shoes were white strappy sandals, and she had a white cardigan tossed over her shoulder.

"Emory," the girl says. "Emory Monton, Victor of the 73rd Annual Hunger Games, District Eight, though it's not as if you didn't know that," she finishes.

"I didn't know that," I say, and it's true.

The girl – Emory – just stares. Her name seems so familiar, and that's when it hits me: she was the one Katniss and Madge did their report on. The one who strangled and poisoned her competition.

I suddenly feel sick. She is fifteen, sixteen, younger than me, and yet she has killed people. Though that is a bit hypocritical; wasn't I shooting people at fifteen? Wasn't I doing it to survive?

"How did you not know that?" Emory asks me, and there's almost a sense of wonder in her voice, as if to say, _how does this girl not know me?_

It's a bit egotistic, I must say.

"I guess you could say I'm new around here," I say, giving Emory a weak smile.

"That's the understatement of the century," Peeta mutters under his breath.

Suddenly, a horn blows. "The Tribute Parade's starting," Emory says in a sing song voice.

Her face quickly turns from a smirk to a full-out grin. "Good luck," she says in that same sing song voice. Then, her voice changes, imitating Effie. "And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor."

-()()()-

The Parade isn't that hard to pull off, really. I just smile and wave to everyone, blowing them kisses.

"Link arms with me," Peeta mutters in my ear.

"What?" I whisper.

"Link arms with me!" he mutters, this time more insistently.

"Yes, I heard you the first time," I say, irritated. "But why?"

"We'll look like a team. Hopefully, no one mistakes this for romance."

"I'm offended!" I say teasingly.

"You're a friend. I…like someone else." Peeta said, and a small smile flitted over him.

But soon, we have made our way around City Circle, and we are now outside a mansion. The other Districts are towards the front, and their carriages are around the circular driveway.

But as District Twelve is the lowest District, we are placed next to Eleven on the back of the circle.

The boy from Eleven is built like an ox – not at all like Tobias, who was strong yet gentle –and I assume he would not spare any mercy. The girl is delicate; she looks only ten; I remember her name is Rue, and she is twelve.

Size doesn't matter, though. I look only thirteen or fourteen.

Rue looks our way, and catches me looking. She gives a little wave with a small smile, and I wave back.

Peeta nods to me. "Already scoping out the competition?" he asks in a tone of voice such that I can't tell if he's being serious or trying to joke.

I shrug. "If that's what you want to call it," I say.

A man is giving a speech. He has white hair and a beard, and looks like a demented version of Santa Claus.

Abnegation did not celebrate holidays. Holidays were selfish. When I was about six or seven, my family visited my uncle in Amity. His house was bright and colorful, and filled with seasonal trinkets.

When we returned home, I asked my father why Abnegation didn't celebrate Christmas.

He bent down to my height and looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Beatrice, not every family has the resources for Christmas celebrations. It would be selfish to celebrate it when others cannot."

Now, looking back on that, I can remember my mother looking in. A couple days later, on December 25, there was a small package on my pillow – a tiny gold heart on a chain. It was long enough that when I grew, it never showed.

I was smart enough to know that I should not tell my father. I knew that it was my mother who gave it to me.

I can also vaguely remember seeing Caleb flipping through a book. He said it was for school, but it wasn't a school book. Now, I wonder if my mother gave it to him.

Peeta's voice snaps me out of my memories. "Tris?"

"Yes?" I ask, blinking slightly.

"You might want to pay attention. That's President Snow," he says, nodding to the Santa Claus wannabe. "He's the most powerful man in Panem."

"I've still never heard of him."

"Where the hell are you from?"

"Somewhere where President Snow does not exist," I say dryly. "Hasn't the District Twelve gossip circulated to your bakery yet?"

Peeta shrugged. "I try not to listen to gossip. It makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Peeta, you are the rare specimen of a teenager who does _not_ like gossip."

"Thank you," he says, grinning. Once again, I'm not sure if he's serious or just being sarcastic.

The chariot lurches forward, and we're moving towards a gray building. But I look up, and I see the Santa Claus impersonator – President Snow – looking at me.

And it chills me to the bone.

-()()()-

The Training Center building is large and gray. Basically, boring as hell.

"This is nice," Peeta says, quietly.

I look at him in disbelief. "Are you joking?"

He blinks. "No. Why would I be joking? This really is nice!"

I raise an eyebrow. I don't quite think he's serious.

I head for the elevator. "I'm going to our floor. You coming?"

Peeta shakes his head. "Not yet."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

-()()()-

The elevator in empty, except for a girl with dark hair and a cruel sneer. "District Twelve?" she sniffs.

"Yes," I say.

The girl rolls her eyes. "Scum," she sneers.

"Someone's in a good mood today," I say dryly.

"That smartass attitude will get you killed in the Arena. If not, I'll do it myself," she says.

"Clove Fuhrman. District Two." The girl says with an air of importance.

"Tris Prior. District Twelve, though I think you already know that."

"Baka," Clove mutters under her breath. I catch it, though.

"What did you just call me?" I say with a sickly sweet smile.

"Nothing," she says with a smile just as sickly and sweet.

"Good." The elevator bell dings for District Two, and Clove gets off with one last long look at me.

But when I get to District Twelve's floor, there is someone there.

Uriah.

"Uriah!" I say, running over to hug him. I can feel him grin against my jacket.

"I thought you were dead," I say when we pull apart.

"I did too," he admits. "How did you…"

"Peacekeepers found me. We were in the outer edges of the Meadow in District Twelve."

"I was trying to get help. But then I got lost, ended up on the outer edges of District Four, got knocked unconscious by Annie Cresta's little sister, and stayed with Annie and Finnick Odair until I got Reaped." He says.

"I stayed with a family. Then I got Reaped." I say.

"Well, no shit Sherlock."

"Love you too."

"Oh, you know you do."

Laughing, I push him away. "Shut up! I have a boyfriend!"

We both go quiet. "How are we supposed to get back?" he asks quietly.

I stare out the window, into the glitz and glamour of the Capitol.

"I don't know," I say. "But we'll figure out a way."

* * *

_Author's Note: I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry._

_BUT SERIOUSLY 11 REVIEWS FOR ONE CHAPTER YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY AMAZING NO REALLY AH AH AH DON'T MIND ME HERE JUST FREAKING OUT ABOUT 11 FUCKING REVIEWS FOR ONE CHAPTER AH AH AH_

_School has been a bitch, but I AM FREE! MY FIRST DAY OF BREAK WHOO! I was exempt from all my exams so I don't have to take them._

_Now, I can update more frequently. Whoo! :D_

_But seriously I am so so sorry. Really._

_And my birthday is soon, I'm excited._

_Question: How old do you guys think I am? I'd like to see what people think!_

_And I put up a poll. Vote on it!_

_This chapter is for **houseofme** and **odestalovebaby** cause they are awesome and their birthday was recently. You go! ;)_

_Please Review!_


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